


The Strength of Living.

by Pixiemixieheart



Series: The Strength of Living. [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Acceptance, Angst and Feels, Bonding, Desperation, Friendship, Love, M/M, Two part fic, but hopeful if you squint?, feeling of powerlessness, m/m - Freeform, not lots tbh, some smut, will be sad but the one that will follow will be better :D
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiemixieheart/pseuds/Pixiemixieheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A failed assassination attempt. An unlucky nick with a poisoned dagger. Now, Hawke and his husband Fenris must travel to Tevinter in search of the only person they know that may be able to heal him. </p><p>Anders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys. If you are a subscriber of my works you know that I usually write a lot of fluff. That is probably what you are here for. Let me say right out that this is not fluffy. There may be fluffy elements because well, this is me writing it but really guys. This is a sad fic. I hurt my own heart writing this. Please heed the warnings in the tags. I do not want to make you feel bad :(...unless you want me to of course. In which case, please climb aboard the angst train. The boxes of Kleenex are in the first carriage and the last carriage is filled entirely with chocolate. 
> 
> I'm so sorry :(
> 
> Also, many many thanks to [Six_Lily_Petals](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Six_Lily_Petals/pseuds/Six_Lily_Petals) ALL HER INCREADIBLE HELP ON THIS. she is my muse <3 and aso my awesome beta reader :D  
> I adore her and you must all lavish tons of attention on her because she is awesome :D

** Prologue. **

Fenris searched through the backpack, tearing at the fabric.

“Where are those fucking apples?!” he said to himself, knowing full well that there were no apples left.

Hawke placed his hand on the elf’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, love. Leave it.”

Fenris took a deep breath, calmed his nerves by sheer force of will alone. It would do no good for Hawke to see him acting this desperate.

This… _afraid._

But apples were the only thing that seemed to help with the pain, he couldn’t just…

“It _does_ matter.” He sighed. “We will get you some more as soon as we reach a settlement on the other side of the border.”

Hawke knelt down beside his husband, his hand still on Fenris’ shoulder.

“Everything will be fine, love.” He said, using his free hand to grip the elf’s chin and guide Fenris to face him. “Maker, but I do love those eyes of yours. Look at me, Fen.”

Fenris dropped the backpack on the ground and lift his gaze until he looked into those gorgeous grey eyes, so full of fire, determination…Love.

Fenris’ breath caught in his lungs. He _couldn’t_ lose Hawke. That simply wasn’t an option. No damned slow acting poison from an assassin’s blade was going to take the love of his life away from him.

“There you are.” Hawke said smiling at him. “Well, hello there handsome. Where have you been all my life?”

Fenris chuckled.

“You are ridiculous, Hawke.” Fenris answered, leaning forwards and kissing his husband’s lips softly.

“Yes. Yes I am. But you love me anyway.” Hawke moved his hand to gently grip the nape of Fenris’ neck, rubbing soothing circles on the bare skin just above the armours collar. “Shall we go find our runaway apostate friend then?”

Anders.

He was their last hope. Their _only_ hope. None of the healers they had visited since the assassin nicked Hawke weeks ago and he began to show signs of malaise had been able to help. Not one of those healers had even been able to identify the poison used.

Fenris noticed the subtle change in Hawkes voice. Softer. Weaker.

It was _killing_ him.

Slowly, to be sure. But if they could not combat the poison soon, it was inevitable that…

No. That would never happen.

Fenris and Anders had never got along but the elf had to admit that there was no better healer in all of Thedas. Anders would fix this. Of course, that damned abomination had run away to Tevinter to hide…and so there they must go as well. No, it was not smart for him to return to that Viper pit. He was still a slave on the run after all, even if Danarius was dead and long gone. Still, to save Hawke it was worth the risk and there was no force on this world that could stop Fenris from accompanying his husband on this journey.

There was no choice.

“The sooner we find him, the sooner we can return home.” Fenris answered, moving to stand.

Hawke coughed into his hand…and coughed… and continued coughing, until he was hunched over in pain.

Fenris, held him up lest the once burly mage (he’d lost a lot of weight since the poison began working through this system) should fall and injure himself further. The elf rubbed his husbands back, muttering comforting words and making soothing noises that sounded so familiar to his ears now.

This was not the first time this had happened.

This was not the first time Fenris had held his husband up to stop him from collapsing. His reaction was practiced. A habit more than anything else…Fenris didn’t like what that meant.

“I’m fine.” Hawke said, standing up, trying to hide the blood in the palm of his hand. “I’m fine. Let’s just get going.”

The mage forced a smile, straightend up and attempted to hide the pain he was obviously in.

He was not good at it.

Fenris’ brow furrowed. He nodded, grabbed the back pack from the ground and wrapped an arm around Hawkes waist.

“Lead on.”

_Lead on…_

How many times had he said that to Hawke since they first met in Kirkwall all those years ago. Never had he  meant it more than he did at this moment.

Hawke would _always_ lead and he would _always follow._

No matter what.

No matter _where._

He would always follow.

Fenris steeled his breath as Hawke took the first steps, crossing the Border into Tevinter soil.

Fenris at his side.

_Always…._


	2. Apples and the World. (Nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris buys more apples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again many many thanks to Six for her suggestions and for being the best Beta reader and partner in crime ever! Much Love, Girly! (If you still haven't checked out her stuff. You really should.
> 
> Nsfw chapter guys.

Fenris held the hood tightly around his face, making sure that the markings on his chin were not visible. Time was of the essence. They couldn’t afford to be accosted by slavers. There was no doubt in his mind that there would still be a hefty reward for his return to the Magister that took over Danarius estate…or at the very least the return of the lyrium in his flesh.

The sun was low in the horizon. It wouldn’t be long before it had set. Fenris held the bag of apples he’d just purchased at the market tightly in his hand. The week of travel had taken its toll on Hawke. He was much weaker, tired easily, his skin paler…he laughed less.

That was what worried him the most. Hawke _always_ found something to laugh about. Some Maker awful pun, or terrible joke. Hawke had been many things since Fenris had known him but if there was one constant, it was the mage’s ability to find humour in everything.

There was nothing funny about this.

Fenris lowered his head a little as he entered the Inn they had been staying at for the past three days. A message had arrived that morning from Anders letting them know that he would meet them there in the morning. Not for the first time in their acquaintance, Fenris found himself eternally grateful that Varric’s network of spies and associates had been able to uncover the location of something previously thought to be untraceable.

The elf climbed up the stairs, avoiding all contact with the Inn’s Patrons. His only goal right now was to get these apples to Hawke so that they could help lessen his husband’s pain. He heard the coughing even before he reached the door to their room.

Fenris ran. Opening the door and heading right to Hawke’s bedside.

“Easy, Hawke. Shhhh. It’s all right.”

Fenris helped him sit up. Rubbing his back in the way that he knew by now would help Hawke breathe easier. It took at least five minutes before Hawke finished coughing.

Too long.

_That one was far too long…_

Fenris poured a glass of water from the jug on the bedside table and offered the glass to his husband who took it and took a tentative sip.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Hawke took Fenris’ hand in his and smiled weakly. “I missed you.”

“There were a lot of people at the Market today.” Fenris leant forward and kissed Hawke’s forehead. “I did not mean to make you worry.”

“I wasn’t worried, Fen. I know you can take care of yourself. I just missed you.”

Fenris placed his other hand over Hawke’s hand, squeezed it a little before releasing it and stood.

“I missed you too.”

Hawke smiled.

Maker, he looked so…frail.

Still handsome. The fire in his eyes had not diminished but his body, the way he held himself….it was simply less.

“You should try eating an apple before we sleep. It will help ease the pain.” Fenris said, picking up the bag of apples from the floor where he’d dropped them earlier in his haste to get to the mage’s side.

“Ugh. I’m so tired of apples. But you’re right.” Hawke took the offered apple and took a bite, wincing slightly every time he chewed. “Maker I can’t wait for Anders to get here tomorrow. I swear, I’ll never eat another apple ever again.”

“Hm.”

Fenris began to undress, barely registering Hawkes words, completely absorbed in his own thoughts. What if Anders didn’t have the answer? What would they do then? No. Of course Anders would know how to fix this. There wasn’t an ailment in Thedas the mage was unable to cure. Except the Blight of course, and even then Anders had found a solution. Carver was a Grey Warden now thanks to the Mage.

Everything was going to be fine.

One more sleep and in the morning they would be able to put this behind them and return home to their Cabin in the Hinterlands. Continue living their life together.

One more night and they could forget this nightmare had ever even happened.

Hawke placed the half eaten apple into a waste bin beside the bed, wiped his hands on a cloth he kept close at hand, and lay back down, his head resting on the pillow.

“Come to bed, Love.”

Fenris sat down on the bed, removing his boots and breeches so that the only thing he wore were his smalls.  As gently as possible he lifted the covers and slipped in beneath them, settling himself into the crook of Hawkes arm, his head on the mages’ shoulder and his arm draped lightly over the human’s chest.

“Mmm. That’s better.” Hawke said as he snuggled closer to the elf, burying his face into Fenris’ soft white hair and taking a deep breath. “Maker, you smell so good, Fen.”

Fenris chuckled and played absentmindedly with the hair on Hawkes chest.

“You realise this only now? We have been married for over a year, Hawke. I would have thought you would have noticed this sooner.”

Hawke raised his hand to grip Fenris chin, lifting the elf’s face up so that he could kiss his lips.

Even now. After having been together for years, the way Hawke kissed him still managed to take Fenris’ breath away. Tender, loving, gentle…but no less passionate for it. Hawke kissed him like every kiss was a promise. As if Fenris was his whole world. Like there was nothing more important, or mattered more to him than this. Them.

Fenris moaned into the kiss, his hands trailing down the mage’s chest, lyrium etched fingers reaching down until he touched the waist band of his husband’s smalls.

“I want you, Fen.” Hawke whispered against his husband’s lips, their breaths intermingling.

“Hawke…”

They hadn’t lain together in weeks. Fenris missed it. It was not just the sex, the pleasure, or the act itself.  He _missed_ the intimacy that true love making brought. He missed feeling of completeness when they joined. Missed the feeling of being so utterly, and wholly connected that he swore their hearts beat as one. 

But Hawke was sick and Fenris did not want to aggravate the condition.

“You are not well enough...” Fenris answered, his voice strained with the control that it took to hold back.

“Please.” Hawke’s hands trailed down Fenris’ back, his fingertips following the slightly raised swirls of lyrium along the elf’s back. “ _Please..”_

Fenris moaned at the touch, the pleading…

As gently as he could manage, Fenris slipped his fingers under the waist band of Hawke’s smalls, wrapping his fingers around the other man’s arousal. Hawke carded his fingers though Fenris’ hair and cupped the back of the elf’s head, pulling him up into another passionate kiss.

Fenris melted into the kiss, languidly stroking Hawkes length. Slowly, with his other hand, Fenris pulled Hawkes smalls off entirely, immediately removing his own after. He continued kissing Hawke as he very carefully lay atop him. He opened his legs to accommodate Fenris hips, both moaning when their arousals came into contact.

“Fen…”

“Hush..” Fenris chided gently.

Fenris wrapped his hand around both their lengths and started rolling his hips leisurely.

Fenris kissed Hawke’s chin, down his neck and placed wet kisses along his collar bone. The mage’s hands held travelled even lower, gripping Fenris’ rear and pulling him even closer.

“More...Please.”

Fenris made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a moan. He was trying to keep things gentle, slow but Hawke was not making it easy. What he wanted to do was pull Hawke towards him, kiss him everywhere, rough and demanding…let the other man take him as he had done so, so many times.

But Hawke _would_ not be able to handle that in his current condition. Perhaps if he…

“Be still.” Fenris said, reaching over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and taking out a small almost full vial of oil. “You will tell me if it is too much.”

Fenris rest back on his haunches, opening the vial and pouring some of the oil into the palm of his hand, thoroughly coating his fingers. He made quick work of preparing himself, not wanting to tempt fate and take too long should Hawke suffer another fit of coughing.

“Maker, but you are beautiful.” Hawke whispered reverently. “I love you.”

Fenris’ heart tightened uncomfortably. He took a staggered breath as he carefully moved to straddle Hawke. For a brief moment he doubted. As he aligned Hawkes tip to his entrance he actually thought – what if this is the last time he would be able to do this? What if Hawke…

 A lump caught in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Determined not to let his fears ruin this moment.

Slowly, he lowered himself down. Inch by glorious inch until Hawke was fully seated inside him. Maker how he loved the feeling of being filled by his husband. His love… _always._

“Fuck. Fen…”

Fenris rolled his hips. A moan caught in his throat and fell forwards, placing his hands on the mattress on either side of Hawkes head.

Slowly, _gently_ , he continued rolling his hips. Their love making was slow…intense. Hawke’s hands touching him everywhere, his back, his arms, thighs…face. Everywhere.

It was not long before Hawke’s grip tightened and he knew the mage was not far off.

Threading his fingers with the mages and taking himself in hand he quickened the pace just a little…just enough.

With a guttural cry he spilled over Hawkes belly as he came. The mage following just after, throbbing inside the elf as he rode the waves of his climax.

They stayed like this as they caught their breath. Fenris mindful to keep most of his weight off Hawke.

“I love you.” Hawke said finally, kissing Fenris briefly. “I can’t wait till Anders gets here and fixes me up so I can take you home.”

Fenris swallowed thickly.

“I am yours, Hawke. We are together. That is what matters. Where, is irrelevant. You are my world.”

“And you are mine, love.” Hawke smiled, and Maker his eyes were so full of light when he smiled it took Fenris’ breath away.

“I will clean us up and then we will sleep. I am also eager to see Anders arrive.”

Hawke chuckled for the first time in days as Fenris rolled off him.

“Maker, I never thought I would see the day those words would come out of your mouth. The Void must have frozen over.”

Fenris smiled despite himself.

“Do not tell the abomination.”

“Of course not. I enjoy my heart right where it is currently.” Hawke teased.

“Hm.”  

“Safe and protected in your hands.”

Fenris’ felt warmth fill his chest, followed by an uncomfortable tightening where his heart was.

_Safe….Maker, please let that be so..._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is very much welcome and appreciated. Hugs for all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry... Bad news.

Fenris hid in the shadows. The sun had not yet risen, but the light of the morning was not far off. He stood, back against the outer wall of the Inn, hyper aware of all sounds and movement. From the crickets singing to the steady hammering of the blacksmith’s hammer pounding on the anvil down the road.

He was conscious of everything.

Unable to sleep, his mind a whirlpool of restlessness and doubt, he’d decided it was best to wait for Anders outside rather than risk waking Hawke with his endless tossing and turning. In any case, it was in all their interests to warn the mage of what he would find . Hawke was not the same man that the abomination had seen a year and a half ago.  Fenris wanted to spare his husband the anxiety of how Anders might react were he not warned beforehand.

An out of place sound made Fenris’ ears twitch. The dull thud of wood against stone…and again.

Steady.

Deliberate.

 A walking stick along the path? …. _No. A staff._

Using the sole of his bare feet he pushed himself away from the wall and waited, hand on the dagger at his waist, prepared for any eventuality. He missed his sword. But an elf carrying a massive broadsword in Tevinter would absolutely attract the wrong kind of attention. Still, he was just as deadly with a dagger and equally as deadly with nothing at all.

In the distance, a cloaked figure walked along the cobblestone path in the Inn’s direction.  Minutes passed. Each second bringing the mysterious figure closer. Moving away from the shadow, Fenris unhurriedly walked towards the figure, now positive that it was indeed the man he’d been waiting for. There was no mistaking Anders’ stature, his gait, the way the mage always walked with head held high.

“Mage...”

“Take me to Hawke, Fenris.” Anders removed his hood, revealing worried honey brown eyes.

“Hawke is much changed since you saw him last, mage. Before I take you to him, there are things you must know.”

 

Fenris watched Anders work.  Not for the first time, Fenris marvelled at the healer’s ability to make his patients feel at ease. It must not be easy for the mage to have to treat a friend. Especially when he owed that friend his life. Hawke had adamantly refused to kill Anders after what happened in Kirkwall, and it was only by his mercy that Anders stood here now.

The abomination looked much the same as he always had, perhaps a little better fed, his hair longer, eyes not quite as bright, dulled with the harsh realities of what life on the run must entail.  Fenris stood by his husband’s bedside, shuffling anxiously on the balls of his feet. As the examination continued, Anders brow increasingly furrowed. If there was one thing that Fenris had learned in over ten years of knowing the mage, it was that that was never a good sign.

“Okay, Hawke. Just rest for a little while I need so get these checked out before doing anything else. Fenris, can you show me where the bathroom is?”

Fenris nodded, bent down and kissed Hawke on the top of his head.

“I’ll be right back.”

Hawke smiled weakly.

“Stop fussing, Fen. Go. I’ll be fine. Actually I’m a little tired so I might sleep a while before Anders heals me.”

Anders gathered up the blood and hair samples he’d taken from Hawke and followed Fenris out of the room. Before they’d even got to the bathroom Anders placed a hand on Fenris’ shoulder.

“Fenris...”

Fenris reacted.  Turning around so quickly Anders barely had enough time to brace himself before Fenris grabbed his shirt and pushed him roughly against the wall.

“No! Don’t you dare say it.”

When Anders opened his mouth to talk Fenris pulled and roughly slammed him up against the wall again, all anger and unrestrained force.

“I said. Do not say it!”

Anders gripped Fenris’ shoulders, a pained look on his features.

“Not saying it doesn’t make it any less true, Fenris. I’m so sorry. “

Fenris’ hands began to tremble uncontrollably. Truthfully, deep down he _had_ known.

“Fix it. I have seen you bring back a child from the brink of death. I have seen you knit flesh and bone together before my eyes. I have seen you restart a man’s heart when it stopped beating. You owe Hawke your life. You _will_ heal him Anders or I swear I will make you regret it.”

The look in Fenris’ eyes was deadly, intent.

“You think I would let him die if I could stop it!? Hawke is the only reason I’m still alive. I care about him more than I do anyone else! Don’t you dare insinuate I wouldn’t help him if I could! He’s my friend too!”

Fenris’s grip on Anders shirt tightened, and he was unable to stop the waver in his voice when he yelled louder than he had yet.

“He is MY husband!!”

Mage and warrior stared at each other unblinking, breathing heavily.

No. There had to be something that they could do. Giving up was not an option. Letting Hawke die was not an option. If it meant he had to beg then so be it.  The intense look in Fenris’ eyes softened… his voice barely a whisper.

“Please...Anders...I am begging you. Anything…I can’t…”

The mage sighed.

“There might be something but...I need to discuss it with Hawke. “ Anders placed his hands on Fenris’ arms, stilling the warriors uncontrollable shaking. “You can’t do this in front of Hawke, Fenris. Maker knows I understand, but he can’t see you like this. You need to be strong for him now, do you understand me, blighted elf? Control yourself!”

Fenris took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He clutched at that glimmer of hope like a lyrium addicted Templar would a grain of lyrium dust. It was _something_. There was hope still...And the abomination was right. He could not act like this in front of Hawke. How many times had Hawke been his rock? His port in a storm?

Fenris had to be strong. They may not have endured worse than this but they _would_ endure.

Releasing Anders shirt, Fenris bent down to gather the vial and tools that Anders had dropped on the floor when Fenris grabbed him.

\-------------------------

“What do you mean it isn’t poison?” Hawke asked, Fenris sat on the edge of the bed right next him. Hand on his thigh. “It all started right after I was nicked with that dagger.”

“I know what this is Hawke. I’ve seen it before. “

Hawke shook his head.

“Well, if it isn’t poison what is it? Actually, No. I don’t care. Just heal me and then we can go downstairs, drink some Maker awful beer, reminisce about old times and Fen and I can go home.”

The grip on Hawke’s thigh tightened momentarily at the thought that maybe, they would never go back home again.

“What?” Hawke asked, the beginnings of a smile freezing on his lips before realisation dawned on him. “You can’t heal me, can you? I’m...” Hawke swallowed thickly, his hand instinctively covering Fenris’ on his thigh.

“Hawke.” Fenris voice felt rough in his throat.

“I will not lie.” Anders cut in. “The chances of what I am about to suggest are slim at best. Maybe, it can prolong what...what time...”

Hawke took a shaky breath, closed his eyes for a moment and soothingly rubbed the top of Fenris’ hand with his thumb.

“Do it.”

“Hawke, you don’t even know what it is I am suggesting...”

“Is it blood magic?” Hawke asked.

“No!” Anders blinked, shocked that Hawke would even think him capable of such a thing. “Of course not.”

“Well, Okay then. The answer is still the same then.” Hawke replied, his features serious. Stoic.

 It was a look that Fenris had seen many times before.

He saw it before Hawke fought the Arishock.

He saw it before Hawke fought Meredith.

He saw it when he stood before Sebastian and refused to kill Anders even as the Prince of Starkhaven threatened them all the might of Starkhavens army.

Hawke would fight this. He would fight and he would win.

The alternative was too terrifying to even contemplate.

Anders nodded.

“In that case, there is this mage I have been working with. His particular field of expertise is…well let’s just say it should be ideal for what is happening to the organs in your body right now. He’s a good man, he’ll want to help. There is one little thing though, it could be a problem.”

Fenris wrapped an arm around his husbands shoulders.

“Whatever this problem is we will solve it before it becomes an issue.” Fenris said, head held high in determination.

“I’m glad to hear you say that Fenris….Because the problem I’m talking about here is you”

Confused, Fenris looked at Hawke and then back to Anders.

“You are not making sense, mage. Explain.”

Anders stood from the chair he was sitting on, and run his fingers through his strawberry blonde hair.

“Do you know a Magister by the name of Pavus?”

Fenris’ ears twitched at the name.

“I remember the name yes. He visited Danarius estate on more than one occasion. Is this the man who you say can help Hawke?” Fenris asked, his blood boiling.

Still, he would do whatever he needed to to help his husband, collaborate with _anyone_. Even if that meant he had to work with a Magister instead of ripping out his heart like all Magister’s deserved.

“No, not him. His son Dorian.” Anders stared at Fenris seriously. “Fenris, I know it’s impossible for you to imagine this but Dorian is a good man….a good friend. If you hurt him…”

Fenris stood, releasing his husband and staring right back at Anders eyes, unflinchingly.

“If you think that I would kill the one man that could possibly heal my husband then that demon has addled your brain more than I thought, _abomination.”_

Hawke tried to get up from the bed and started coughing, causing both Anders and Fenris to forget their stare off and rush to his side.

“It’s all right, Hawke. I’m right here…”

After the coughing fit passed, Hawke chuckled weakly, still not quite having caught his breath.

“Just like old times, huh?” Hawke said looking at them both. “Okay, Anders. Make the preparations, lets meet your Magister Dorian.”

“Altus” Fenris and Anders corrected at the same time.

Hawke managed a weak smile as he looked at his husband and his long-time friend.

“Altus then.”

 


End file.
